


Fumbling over you

by luminous_nyght



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, I use the word fumbling a lot, LISTEN IT'S BAD OK, M/M, Post-Canon, Strong Zouis Zarry Ziall, future!fic, it runs from here into the future, um idk i just needed to write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2516387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminous_nyght/pseuds/luminous_nyght
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam comes bumbling in, it’s awkward and clumsy because he’s got Loki under one arm and his soaked shoes in the other. Zayn subtly smiles, because Liam’s not changed one bit, takes the shoes and puts them on the radiator to dry off. Whilst his backs turned he can hear Liam shuffling to get out of his clothes and into the dry set. </p><p>Zayn keeps his back turned till Liam clears his throat. He might know Liam’s body intimately, but he’s not his too look at anymore.</p><p>On the island now is a receipt. He walks over to see what it is, but he knows. His hands start to shake as he reaches out to grab it. He gave this to Liam the night of their 1st anniversary.<br/>It was the receipt of the day the first time they met at McDonalds.<br/>10th March 2010. – The day everything had changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fumbling over you

**Author's Note:**

> I just really needed to write this for my own sake. It's really been a while since I posted anything so take it easy on me hahaha. It has nothing to do with how I see reality, I just seriously needed angst and this was the way to go, it IS happy ending, however it took me a long time to make it that. I hope you like it!!

Zayn’s fairly certain he’s been in love twice in his entire life. His first, he’s more than sure it’s his ammi, with her long dark hair,  soft fair skin, miracle healing hands and the tact for those incredible good curries she had. The woman that made his life – with all its downfalls, and heartaches, bearable.

His second – well that’s Liam.

Liam with his unruly curly hair quaffed up to try represent a floppy quiff, Liam with his solid arms and chest, those warm hazelnut coloured eyes, the slope of his nose and those dusted red lips that made him welt at just the sight of them.

He wouldn’t have ever imagined he’d ever end up with him though. It was such a surprise to him when Liam persisted on calling a simple cinema outing between shows their first date. Still dazed about that soft first proper kiss they shared that same night. The way Liam felt when he was suddenly pressed against his seat, Liam straddling his thighs, fitting in a way it made Zayn question why he hadn't done that ages back. He sighs as he shifts in his uncomfortable bunk on the bus and opens the curtain a little to see if he could get a glimpse of him now playing fifa out in the lounge area with Louis. He smiles when he sees Liam on his tummy legs raised on the floor giggling his heart out – it’s sad – he doesn’t get that Liam anymore more often than not.

But Zayn’s hard-headed as fuck. There is no way in hell he’s going to admit to that. They had been going through a rough patch these last couple of months, which is how he finds himself resisting the urge to go out and straddle Li pepper kisses down his spine and cheering him on like a good boyfriend should do.

On one hand he rationalised, Liam had no obligation to share everything with him, but on the other – they had been together 3 years now. Zayn felt he earned the right to know exactly what Liam felt now that he was on the skirting on the fringe of 21 not 18. He sighs again and pulls his blanket over his head looking at Liam be happy without him stings. He learns, he gets cold without Liam beside him, something he’d only noticed once Liam stopped coming to bed with him over 6 weeks ago.

It hurt – the process of unlearning what Liam’s arms felt like, the beat of his heartbeat the amounts of breaths he needed to relax – it wasn’t as if they broke up or anything, but they had fallen apart in the most unkind of manners.

It was funny – they had fallen out over wedding planning, _wedding planning_. It felt so daft and childish and yet he now knew exactly what Liam felt for him and well – what he couldn’t get over to get their happy ending. Liam was now actually seeing Sophia, his beard well – she was that he isn't sure what she is now - Liam's shag maybe, according to him through the bits he actually spoke to Zayn, it was simpler, less stressful – more acceptable was the actual term he’d used. That he’d rather take the easy way out and be with a woman than think about marrying Zayn.

But again, he was this fucked up desi kid with a penchant for black, charcoal stained fingers, cigarettes, coffee, books and boys. Not exactly your ideal prince charming. He snorts at the complete rubbish he is at being normal. Scrunches up his nose and rubs his hands over his face, effectively waking him up. He stirs and sits up, jumping off and grabbing his jacket before practically jogging to the pull down ladder that lead up to the window accessible to sit on top of the bus. They were stuck in Florida for the night anyway, it wasn’t moving. He pulls out his fags and lights up a cigarette, drawing out his drag shaking his head out his thoughts before he looks down at his chest. He had looped his engagement ring around his neck, a constant daily reminder that what he had with Liam was in fact and real and well – established.

Liam – well he really was his first everything, sinking back into his reverie was his favourite pass time nowadays really. He so wished he had liquid luck, for even just a few moments to have the courage to say all the things he had been failing to say lately. He feels a hand in his hair then, in an almost brushing manner, before a face –Harry’s.

“I felt you get up.” It’s simple, slow almost raspy, tired with exhaustion, but so very Harry. He’s still holding his ring, which he lets go of immediately then as well as crushing his cigarette butt on the old aluminum of the bus before throwing it somewhere over.

Harry sits next to him and pulls his lithe frame into his lap, his head resting gently on Harry’s thigh.

“How long haven’t you slept for?” It’s not in an accusationary manner but god damn it feels like it. He shrugs and closes his eyes, bringing his hand to cover over them in a protective manner. “Bout 4 days haz.” It’s more of a whisper really, he hates that it still has such an effect on him.

“I need you to talk to him.” He grunts. “Can’t.”

“Why though?” Harry’s stringing his thick fingers through his hair again, careful, controlled, contained. It’s soothing and a thing he knows sets him happily off to sleep if he lets it but he can’t not when it’s not Liam doing it.

“Harry, he’s made himself clear on,” He stutters, grabbing up for Harry’s hand in his hair, squeezing, before gently returning it over his eyes “- stuff ok. I don’t talk about it much but it has happened and it’s what drove us apart.”

“Neither of you never really explained you know, one day you were picking out Sherwani’s the next – you’re climbing into my bed crying refusing to tell me or Lou anything.”

He reddens, blood rushing up into his face, making him hear his own heartbeat– this topic, it angers Zayn to a point he hates it, especially when he’s forced to speak about it out loud.

“Hasn’t Liam told Lou anything?”  He whispers, trying to keep neutral. He knows he’s got 2 reactions to things that hurt his heart. He’ll either sit and cry for hours, folded up in someone’s gentle, soothing  arms listening to his every whim and whisper, repeating words to him that finally all merge together like a prayer quieting him down enough to fall into an uninterrupted sleep, or he’ll scream and shout so loudly no one dares touches him for days. He chuckles hollowly when Harry shakes his head he can tell then he’s bringing his hand over Zayn’s arm slowly pushing it out of the way to look at him, caressing his cheek slowly.

“What’s happened Zayn?” He takes a breath, shakes his fears out of his mind and, “said he can’t marry me because I’m not a girl and I’m not – well white. At least that’s the only way I can put it.” Harry stills, his own breath hitches, before his knuckles fist up turning white, starkly visible in the dark blue 3 am sky.

“Harry –“ but he’s shushed rapidly with Harry’s scream for Louis which startles him quite frankly, sitting up in a jolt pushing away, ready to run – well before he realises he’s on top of his fucking tour bus.

Louis, bless him, appears a couple of seconds later, he can see Liam’s hair start to appear from the latch too, however Harry promptly closes and locks the window, leaving Liam sufficiently off the roof and out of ear shot. Harry pulls a confused Louis towards him and in a hurried yet hushed manner explains something Zayn quite understand, his mind too fogged up to make out Harry’s rapid speech.

He sees Louis’ face fall, his fingers quickly reaching out finding Zayn’s. Regal fingers wrapping around his own, meaning he falls into Louis’ arms kind of haphazardly which doesn’t really matter at this point seeing he can feel hot tears already creating tracks down his cheeks. He fumbles – it’s started – and there was no way to stop it.

Like Harry before him, Louis soothes. Warm hands run up and down his back. Over the knobs of his spine, pressing delicate touches to the back of his head, reaching up into his hair, pressing down in between his shoulder blades and lower back, Zayn fitting into Louis’ smaller frame effortlessly.

Eventually he stops, he can make out that the dark blue hue of the sky turned into a soft reddish colour but he doesn’t care. It’s a laborious process to even get to a stage where he’s breathing steadily again but both Louis and Harry are still there, curled up around him, in that protective manner of theirs that always comes out when one of the boys need them. He tries to apologise, but Lou looks at him in a way he knows it’s not even needed. So he takes a big deep breath instead and rubs at his eyes and nose.

“Can we rewind to when and where this happened?” Louis is asking no, it’s still hushed, slow, and steady, like he’s actually afraid of a response.

He laughs hollowly, fading quickly as his fumbled mind scrambles to think, “Um, summer just before his birthday – in that long break in August.” He sighs and falls back into himself. He does actually hate remembering this.

“Is that why the bust up arm in a cast?” At this point he’s not sure who’s asking the questions, it’s soft and faint, almost – delicate in tone, but he’s just sinking into the memories of that horrible day and everything is still a little clouded and everything is boggling.

“I dunno man, all I know is he packed up and moved into Soph’s room and when I tried to go speak to him he was shagging her. I’ll never forget that I don’t think.” He sighs – “He said he can’t keep doing this – and that I should try to start loving Perrie – the proper away, cause what we had – it’s not the right kind of love.”

It hurt, saying it out loud, to people who get it, but the sense of burden was washed over by the sense of relief he finally felt. He feels a hand brushing close to his ear, a moment later, “What about the not being white poppycock?”

Zayn shrugs, smiling at Louis’ use of archaic words before, “said stuff about it’s not right that I like what I like because I’m a practicing Muslim and stuff.”  He’s more composed now, less agitated, his brain fully functioning – mostly restoring his sanity again to a point he’s aware this is _finally_ being discussed.

He sits up, crosses his legs like a Punjab and bows his head before, “Look I’m working hard to get over this, over him and everything in between. I guess I should have learnt from you two that, a relationship doesn’t work when you’re together all the time with no space and time for yourself, but it’s Liam and I still couldn’t fathom why he asked me out, let alone ending up with this on my finger,” he says, taking his ring in between his digits again and pulling it out so that he’s looking at the shiny black band. “For the last year. It’s hard to go from planning a life together to watch him be happy elsewhere but what I’ve learnt is that when you love someone enough you’re ready to let them go anytime. Liam and I, kids yeah, over our heads in all this, lives we can’t control, a career I don’t want anymore, a woman I barely know professing she loves me enough to want to a marry me, living a life that isn’t mine for the taking. I had Liam, and it was real and it was good, but I can’t hold onto something that stopped being true months ago." He sighs, not looking up at them and crawls the 10 inches to get to the latch and slides it open. “I’m going to sleep now, if it’s possible please don’t wake me up before the show.” He asserts as he drops his legs into the hole. He starts climbing down the ladder going down just enough to be able to reach up again to say a quick thanks before pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek.

He hates about talking about his feelings anyway.

*

Niall is the one that wakes him up. It had become a bit of a thing actually, because Louis was too gruff and Harry too slow and Liam never came that close to him anymore. However he relishes in the ways Niall fits himself close, stringing useless cords on his guitar, lulling him out of sleep gently, just like the way Liam used to do it, with those deft fingers caressing gently over his face and cheekbones like Zayn was this dainty body and Liam was afraid to touch. _Even if he’d seen Zayn fall apart so ungracefully beneath him so many times, it was always the same touch with Liam._ That Liam’s touch as Zayn liked to call it – he knew straight away it as Liam’s hand on his face, even with his eyes closed and senses fluffed.

He laments and tries to open his eyes. He cries out, because he doesn’t do so well with bright light on his face all too much. He hears Niall chuckle before a shuffle a gentle shuffle from the bed sheets and the light flicks off just like that. Niall places his thumbs over both his eyes and swipes slowly, whispering a _20 minutes to show time sleepy head; Lou will go crazy if you don’t show up like now crazy._ It’s soft and slow with a hint of laughter, yet there is heat and neediness to his voice because yeah well at this rate, he will be late for the show with all the shit she puts on his face daily. He chuckles deftly and sits up rubbing his eyes harshly before moving his fingers down to scratch his beard – something he learned wakes him up.

This was the one thing he was still good at, and god damn he wanted to enjoy it.

*

The boys let it slip. They go months before bringing it up again, just looking at him wearily every time Liam goes anywhere next to him. If he was honest – it had gotten better, but the constant need to touch/hold/caress, _kiss_ Liam was still there, however now he could look Liam in the eye and share a joke with him without becoming a crumbled mess.

Louis had recently been constantly asking to talk to him. Pulling him aside for little chats before shows, interviews and most recently their latest music video – Zayn has been trying his best to avoid and avert the attention. It’s been successful, but it won’t hold up for too long, that he knows.

He’s sat in a meeting, looking at Perrie on the other side of the table, wondering why he just _can’t_ love her the way Liam slipped so quickly into loving Sophia. He rationalises, she’s not his type, blonde, blue-eyed – privileged woman. He thinks about his ammi, daadi and pupos maybe even his cousins and wonders how their managers ever believed; they’d ever fall for each other. Two different breeds of people, different ideologies, ways of life, social classes. Outside the band, Zayn was still the same biracial man he was when he left Bradford; on the other hand, Perrie had done a complete 360 from the way she was back in Newcastle. He can’t quite understand how Liam, like _Liam_ out of all people would suggest he’d better start falling for Perrie, when he was the first person he told he couldn’t stand the constant glare she gave him behind closed doors, the way she treated his family, like they’re this underclass of people that should cater to her every whim, remembering the ruckus she caused when he took her home to Eid – the way she made a scene over a broken heel, causing him so much embarrassment he didn’t go home for 10 months.

He knows he should be paying attention, they’re planning _his wedding_ after all but he can’t bring himself to look down at the sheets put in front of him, too busy staring at the ring still chained around his neck, a constant reminder what was real to him and what most definitely isn’t. He vaguely makes out that they’ve got 3 hours to choose their theme and date from the pile of papers put in front of him. It scares him a little that they have everything planned out like it’s going to happen, even though he knows that the last contact he signed stated that no actual marriage will take place – thank fuck.

“Zayn?” It’s low, almost timid. Perrie is a very loud sort of woman in general, but he’s been horrible to her the last couple of months, so even though she’s got an entitled, potty mouth the rest of the time out of his presence, she’d learned to _fear_ him, because when he gets bad, it’s _bad_ and she knows it’s not good to be on the cause of his rage. It’s not as if it started out intentionally, it wasn’t. He’s not sadist. He just got really mad one day and witnessed him crack the mirror of his hotel bathroom to pieces to be able to carve out lines on the inside of his upper thigh. When he’s mad, Zayn hurts himself, but the screeching on top of that pushed her over the edge. So he’s fairly sure she’s not at her most comfortable around him.

He likes it better that way.

“I don’t care, and you know it.” He speaks. “I want nothing to do with this and we _both_ know it. I don’t care whether you put us in France or Peru. Just know for the love of god, _don’t_ tie your heart to this, sooner or later it will go up in flames anyway.”

With that, her shoulders drop, she hunches over herself in a protective manner, the long mane of blonde hair tied up in a ponytail now falls over her face, shielding her eyes from view. She slowly lifts her hands to sit on top of the table making sure he can see what she’s doing. She takes the ring given to her and twists it out, dropping it on the table; it clings loudly against the solid dark wood before it rests quietly right next to the sheet that outlines the schedule for the next couple of months.

She raises her eyes and meets his then reaches out and tears up the entire pack of papers put in front of her. Once satisfied her big beautiful blue eyes gleam like African crystals just hitting the sun at that right angle. Gleaming with triumph.

“I have no interest in this.” She states her eyes still shining. “I’ve not had any since the time you refused to be seen with me around a year ago. Zayn, Little Mix isn’t doing very well. Actually there has been gossip that they’re dropping us next year. This is the only way they had to just _try_ to make it work, but we’ve never really had the chance to sell what we do well, with all the conflicting stories about us out there. We don’t have awards to our names and the fanbase is dwindling by the day. You don’t need me attached to you at the hip when it’s not been right, it has never _been_ right.” She accentuates slowly before reaching out to grab his cheek, out of habit he leans into her touch just cause it reminds him so much of his mother.

“I so wished you had it in you the capacity to love me, but you don’t, _you’ve never had._ We end this today. I can’t stand being dragged away to the other side of the world on every whim of Harry Magee.” He sighs and slides his eyes shut. He hates it so badly when she’s suddenly there and they’re room sharing and he has to hold her hand _everywhere_ like a child and have the need to go out and act all coupley.

“And Zayn, speak to Li, I swear to god if you two don’t work it out, I’ll personally castrate the boy.”

She stands up and rounds the table, pressing a kiss to his forehead, saying something about planning to quit and go to veterinary school like she always wanted. He’s too dazed to register everything that occurred in the last 10 minutes and doesn’t even hear her leave.

He stares at the ring perfectly still on the table, the sun now illuminating the diamond beautifully creating patterns on the worn wood, he stretches out slowly and slips it between his fingers before reaching for his chain to slip it next to his own ring.

It’s like he’s got a thing for collecting broken hearts.

*

The minute the news breaks out, Louis is the first to call him, squealing out how happy he is that its _finally_ happened. If Zayn was honest, he still can’t believe she convinced them it was time to give the gig up, he had been trying close to 3 years and it never worked for him, but now his break up from Perrie was everywhere, he knew – he didn’t have to look. There were a few people, even some press people, holding out for reconciliation, but none of that was ever going to ever take place. The news about Little Mix still not out however. Waiting for the right moment before that gets announced he guesses.

Louis’ over by lunchtime, Harry comes round for tea, and Niall shows up at around 9pm with beer and pizza soaking from the February showers, asking if he could watch  Match of the day. He chuckles happily, because these are _his_ boys. He knew this would happen, a celebration of sorts.

Later, when the boys are fumbling into his spare bedrooms, unlocking doors and petting his dogs, all drunk on off the cheap beer and football, he hears the doorbell.

It’s funny because it’s 2 in the morning and he’s not expecting anyone.

He opens the door just after he hears Niall mutter something about the snake, _Liam’s_ snake that resides in the room he chose. He sees him shuffling to Harry’s room before he turns his head to look at whoever is at the door. He gasps, taking in Liam’s heavy built frame in front of him, his longer hair, wet – like he just ran here in the rain and curling so nicely it makes him want to touch. His brain however is too stunned to talk, which means Liam smiles slightly and pushes past him and goes straight to pet Loki, who at this point came to Zayn’s legs to see who is the late night disturbance.

He can tell he’s missed him. He locks the door and slowly walks into the kitchen to make Liam a cup of tea, grabbing a towel, joggers and one of his Adidas hoodies from the linen closet where he moved most of Liam’s clothes.

It had been close to a year now. Liam had never come to collect his stuff – or his dog, but Zayn had to get rid of them somehow.

Out of sight – out of mind, but Harley and the cats loved Loki too much to move him to Louis’.

Liam comes bumbling in, it’s awkward and clumsy because he’s got Loki under one arm and his soaked shoes in the other. Zayn subtly smiles, because Liam’s not changed one bit, takes the shoes and puts them on the radiator to dry off. Whilst his back is turned he can hear Liam shuffling to get out of his clothes and into the dry set.

Zayn keeps his back turned till Liam clears his throat. He might know Liam’s body intimately, but he’s not his too look at anymore.

On the island now is a receipt. He walks over to see what it is, but he _knows._ His hands start to shake as he reaches out to grab it. He gave this too Liam the night of their 1 st anniversary.

It was the receipt of the day the first time they met at McDonalds.

 _10 th March 2010. _– The day everything had changed.

“I found it, uh whilst I was clearing out some old stuff. It was in a box marked _new house_ and I’ve never seen it before cause I never went up into the loft before yesterday and uh it was in between the pages of your copy of 1984, you know the one I was trying to read cause it’s your favourite book?”

He nods, he’s trying to hold back his tears, because how _dare he._ Zayn was doing fine, doing better – Liam had no right to get this out of the woodworks, make him remember things, he’s been so desperately _trying_ to forget.

“I had been so lost in those boxes that I hadn’t checked my phone and when I did the first thing everywhere was about you and Perrie. I’m sorry.” It’s a whisper, almost a whimper, his eyes shining like he too wanted to cry. “Last year,” he stutters, “Last year she put it in my head that she’s the best option for me. I believed her because Sophia was a mate from home and I trusted her. She said I’d eventually fall in love with her if I tried hard enough, because what I had with you was an infatuation apparently not proper love. According to her, what we had, where we were going, it could only end up in tears and broken hearts. I wanted you so badly to be happy I believed her every word. Zayn, I’m not asking you to forgive me, because damnit I’ve been horrible to you but I do miss you – _I miss us_ – and right now I’m quite sure you’re the only thing I’ve ever really wanted.”

He’s looking at Zayn with these eyes, but he _can’t_ he can’t just _fall back_ so gently without a little bit of a fight. He takes Liam’s hand and pulls him closer, Liam because he’s _Liam_ cascades them with the wall and pressing his forehead down on Zayn’s as Zayn’s hands involuntary fall on Liam’s hips – just like they always did _before._

It’s the first time Zayn sees Liam’s own chain around his neck. He pulls his head back and reaches up to pull the necklace out of the inside of his shirt. It’s a ring. The ring Liam had been using as his engagement ring – Zayn’s grandfathers ring – the ring he gave Liam right at the start of their relationship.

Liam smiles. “I, uh – have been wearing it for about 8 months, always inside my pockets, looped up in breast jackets usually or in my wallet if I’m in just my jeans. I’ve put something in it – if that’s ok. He takes it from Zayn’s fingers and twists it so he can see the inside.

It’s a small inscription - it’s simple, just their initials and the day they got together. It matches the engraving in his own black band.

He looks up at Liam, his eyes are now gleaming gold and Zayn knows, he won’t be able to say no for much longer.

“I don’t know if you’ve moved on or anything but I really want to try again now that we have our own lives to live for a while and not play the cat and mouse game with management all the time.”

He nods closes his eyes, he can’t bear it any longer – especially with Liam _this_ close to him. He leans in, and he’s met in the middle, their mouths finding their old rhythm, igniting their passion that’s lied dormant for so many tender months. Liam’s hands find his hipbones. His biggest pressure point and squeezes, he’s proud of the fact he doesn’t jump up to straddle Liam right there right up against his kitchen wall. He breaks the kiss to look at Liam, before slowly pulling him for a hug. After that the water dam breaks and he knows – _he knows_ this time they’re both in it for the long haul.

*

It’s slow after that, almost timid – like they’re getting to know each other all over again but it’s fine – because it’s the way Zayn actually wants it.

They’ve had a year out – just playing around with new sounds, writing their own music to a point they’ve got Zayn on piano and Louis on drums now. Harry along with Niall and Liam took up the bass and they just meet up daily at Zayn’s studio to write. While they’re still friends with their band – professionally it was time to part lives again. Making out from under Modest alive and together was a feat on its own. They’re at a stage where they are nearly ready to release new music, under their own label, with a new management working with them not _against_ them.

They still use H _élène_ , because she’s their second mother and they all know it. She pushes them to the brink – and some more but she’s the reason Zayn’s voice is the way it is, and none of them would have it any other way.

He’s tapped on the knee by Brooklyn; she’s closing rapidly on 5 now, something he can’t quite believe yet. He smiles as he lifts her onto his lap, setting aside the manuscript he’s working on to see what she needs.

“Uncle Liam says he needs you with your book in the library.” She scrunches up her face before reaching up to mess up his ponytail. “He said I’m not allowed to come – it’s not fair, I barely see you!”

The incredulous look on her face is enough to make him chuckle. He bends down to kiss her cheek before standing up to take her to her mum. Caroline just dropped her off, but she’s sticking around for a little, until the boys leave, just because they’re dropping news on them.

He opens the door and sees all of them sitting around the large table that he spends most of his time on. Writing, whether it be music or one of his novels – this was his sanctuary.

Once Louis sees him, he raves, jumps off his bit of the bench like he’s not seen Zayn in a decade not 2 days.

“We need a chat. A good solid chat that we needed for a couple of years.” He says, once he’s done showing off. Louis sits squarely on the table. His hand immediately reaching out for Zayn and Liam, who naturally stepped into his space the minute he entered the room to join him, Zayn felt a little brush against the small of his back, pushing him forward gently, so that they do join Lou.

He leaves the latest edited copy of his series on one of the selves and sits next to Louis. Liam sliding in behind him, whilst Harry and Niall presently preferring the benches on either side.

“I know this is weird,” Louis starts sliding his fingers over the worn oak of his grand table before looking up at Zayn. “I’ve never really questioned anything you two do, because it’s not really any of my business. My business was getting a good show at the end of the night, the satisfaction of creating something good out of something so horribly put together. What I’m trying to say is, I find myself needing answers about events that have taken place over a long period of time now. They keep playing in my head like a broken record and I just feel the need to know.”

He nods, and Harry takes over. “Around 5 years ago, I saw love, in two boys that knew nothing about loving boys.” Zayn knew where it was going; - he’s known _for years_ that one day curiosity will kill them one day _,_ he chuckles and leans back into Liam, waiting but Liam beats them too it before the questions start rolling in.

He clears his throat – it’s a Liam thing he smiles again, he can feel Liam’s breath on his ear, and he can feel Liam’s hands squeezing around his, like he wants to create armour around them.

“A long time ago – I fell in love with a fumbling idiot barely able to sing ad libs, and he used to fumble over words that weren’t songs and so quiet when you’re in a room with him, you can hear a pin drop. Then I got scared into thinking what we had wasn’t real. That what we had was infatuation not love. That a white boy couldn’t fall in love with a beautiful brown one. That being with a woman, was the only way I would be perceived as normal. It took me a year to understand, that being idiotic, talking for hours without finding the need to touch; laughing around half spoken sentences and lines _was_ the actual way to love someone. I never stopped loving him – even when I was balls deep in a relationship I had no use for. Manipulation is a powerful thing – being loved by a woman had always been a dream of mine and when the opportunity presented itself, I just couldn’t say no. It was daft and I hate myself for it every single day but –” And that’s where he stops Liam, reaching over behind him to pull on his ear – they’re own version of a safe word. Liam immediately shuts down but Zayn presses his hands now over Liam’s knuckles in his own form of assurance.

“No.” He says twisting around to press a kiss to his cheek, “You don’t have too and I tell you this every night.” He almost whispers, “At the time,” He starts now addressing the boys looking at Harry and Louis first, “it was a shock. You two had just only started to work things out and I had started to believe that relationships like that in such closed quarters wouldn't have worked. I saw you two crumble just as we were beginning, it was always at the back of my mind that one day something horrible would happen, so when it did – I just took it. In that year of limbo – I never stopped thinking about him. Something so weird because I remember you saying that what the other did wasn’t an issue to you anymore. But with me – everything he did – I still cared. That night when we got back together – I didn’t know what it would lead too. I didn’t know where it was heading, just that it was happening together.” Liam squeezes his tummy now, then his hip bone, making Zayn stop once again, because he knew Liam wanted to finish this off.

“I had opened 4 boxes that were marked _new house_ the weekend the news about Zayn and Perrie made it into the news. It was Pandora’s box. I re-lived every single memory I shared with Zayn – from our first meeting to our first date, to our first valentine cards. It reminded me of the _why_ and nothing else mattered. When I finally called Sophia to break it off – I wasn’t even allowed to feel sadness, because he was there asleep on his belly next to me looking frazzled and tired but happy, right where he had always should have been. Love is a very powerful thing, and it had to be destroyed, before we were able to create _this_.” He says now lacing his fingers with Zayn the metal of their rings clanging together. “We’re just happy and grateful; we gave each other that second chance.”

A wave of calm has washed over the room – they had finally let the boys in again. When everything was new again and they were told all over again that they were giving it another go, they all looked perplexed over the _how_ but they hadn’t been ready to sit them down and explain when they themselves where trying to figure it out.

“Also –” he says now, because there was no time like the present. “In 2 months my 3rd book will get published and if I keep going the way I’m going, I’ll graduate from uni next year.” He looks up at Liam who nods, “and we just also got accepted as adoptive parents of a 4 month old baby girl named Shahla. I know we don’t talk about our lives anymore, and that’s mostly because it’s easier to just do our own thing especially seeing our pasts but right now, everything has been easy and we just don’t find the need to complicate it all again.”

Harry nods, stands to reach over to press a kiss to his cheek. Niall does the same to Liam while climbing on the table himself. Gathering Louis up in a hug along the way, this was them, this was family, apart they are dis – functioning limbs that muddled through life haphazardly but together they were one beating heart that made a whole. Zayn knew this, that they spent that year disconnected, flat lining at every chance of success because 2 of them weren’t functioning how they should have been, but tonight, all cuddled up together in the fashion they had always done since they were 16 years old, fumbling over everything he had to accomplish still, he felt it again, that connection, that unbreakable bond they formed when they met all those years ago, and when Liam leans over just enough so that Zayn can smell his aftershave and whispers a soft _i love you_ into his ear, he knows that _this_ just this even with everything coming up and nothing was forgotten, yes _this_ was everything and more he’d ever need.

*

Zayn’s fairly certain he’s been in love twice in his entire life. His first, he’s more than sure it’s his ammi, with her long dark hair, soft fair skin, miracle healing hands and the tact for those incredible good curries she had. The woman that made his life – with all its downfalls, and heartaches, bearable.

His second – well that’s Liam.

 


End file.
